Legacy complete

Life in the local education circle will soon change, a direct result of a happening at the close of June 2023. 

For a collective 95 years, 3 Uber influential, charismatic, brilliant educational leaders will push the 'I need a change' button and sidle into their retirement years, and like many in the system, I am of two minds with this particular changing of the guard. While I truly couldn't be happier for them since I consider each to be a good friend, I am a little sad that their loss will be of significance to the educational community by depriving the coming generations of students the opportunity to experience their sheer awesomeness.

Greg Brucker and Pete Bowman will be long remembered as trend-setting Principals with huge hearts, wide smiles, and tremendous charisma. Doug Woods has also profoundly impacted the schools he's been placed as a respected and beloved Vice Principal, he too possessor of a wide smile, engaging personality, and huge heart. All three have bettered the lives of students as both teachers and administrators, the student's affinity for them readily apparent as they interacted in the hallways, gymnasiums, fields, and classrooms. Like all administrators, their influence started at the chalkboard, the stories of their popularity like whispers on the wind to the rest of us, but seeing their brilliance firsthand as my colleagues and I adopted the pupil role, it's as clear as the prominent nose on my face. 

I've led a blessed educational career, thanks in part to the pure luck of great administrators. While I haven't necessarily agreed with each's pedagogy, their leadership has prompted both respect and growth, the mark of true leaders. From Harry Hughes, to John Dunlop, to Mary Ellen Smith, to Craig Hawkins, just to name a few of those who impacted my growth, my career peaked with my 'swan song' 12+ years under the supervision of two giants in the Biz, first with Russ Atkinson and then with Greg. That's frickin' awesome sauce for anyone who knows Russ and Greg because they are widely held to be some of the best to ever have steered the ship, not to mention both were named as Outstanding Principals by The Learning Partnership. Not to sell Pete and Doug short because they were amazing VPs when we shared the halls and would certainly have secured spots on my personal top 5 list but I wasn't ever gifted the opportunity to crew the ships they captained. 

Greg Brucker has been my dear friend since I was 13 and moved with my family from Barrie's east end to Sunnidale Road, 4 houses down from his parent's place. Although a year younger, we quickly connected through a mutual love of being active, the somewhat new craze of skateboarding being the lynchpin. We spent many an hour together zooming around the neighbourhood streets, he on his Kryptonite wheels, me on my YoYos ... IYKYK! Being residents of 'Snob Hill' (not so affectionate 70's moniker for Sunnidale Rd), we eventually offered our abilities to the already stellar REP of Barrie Central through our shared love of athletics and willingness to work in the classroom. As the teen years flew by, we spent a boat load of hours doing adolescent things, getting up to our collective no-good while bursting into belly laughs even Santa would be envious of. With parents who were educators, it was no surprise when we both chose to follow in their footsteps as a career choice. 

Without Social Media to fuel our connectedness, we toiled in the trenches separately, every once in a while crossing paths thanks to educational opportunities, but it was pure kismet when we joined forces thanks to his placement as captain of the good ship Central. 

At the risk of treading on some heart strings, the combination of sheer educational brilliance with a long-standing affinity for each other's company, I'd have to rank my years with Greg as being the coup de grace of my career. Although we will most assuredly still go out of our way to stay in touch in retirement, I'll miss the familiar "Mr Port-aire", his personal greeting of habit, his genuine smile of connection, and his renowned razor-sharp wit. He's easily one of the most intelligent individuals I've ever shared a friendship with, making the tremendously difficult task of leading a high school look like it's a walk in the park. The highest praise I can offer to ensure that Joe Public will grasp the loss would be exemplified by the 1000 watt smiles on the painted faces of dozens of students who interrupted their North Fest fun and frivolity to go out of their way to offer their congratulations to him.

I personally feel that's NOT a normal occurrence!

Pete Bowman and I first met through our days at BCC when he was the leader of the Barrie Alternative School that was attached to Central. I was immediately drawn in by his 'larger than life' personality, quick grin, and genuine compassion, but it was the time we spent together when he became North's VP, then Admin Rep on GBSSA council, that I grew to appreciate his leadership skills. When he was promoted to Principal at OSS, I knew that what was Orillia's gain would be North's loss ... my loss, if I'm being selfish. Obviously a key component to the job, Pete also brought his Uber sharp mind to party. 

He just flat out gets it, of that I'm sure!

Doug Woods and I have also known each other for a large number of years, working together at first BCC then BNC when he was placed in both as VP. I could copy snippets of my descriptors for both Greg and Pete, paste them in right here, and they'd fit like the proverbial glove, but I think one of Doug's greatest assets are his 'Cool Hand Luke' personality. He rarely gets flustered, and always seems to have nailed the analysis of the situation. Like Pete, we also shared time on GBSSA council, but like Greg, we also got to know each other better by sharing time outside of the school walls. With Woodsy, it was our shared love of cycling that afforded us hours in the saddle to 'think-pair-share' (to coin some edu-lingo), a habit that has a high degree of likeliness to continue now that he has freed up some time. 

The perfect phrase that begs when describing Doug is 'Salt of the Earth'.

So, all of this begs questioning ...
What will the local school scene look like in their absence?
Will others be capable of filling in the gaps?

Who knows? I have my own ideas, but for once I'll keep them to myself. 

I'll simply end by sincerely thanking this trio for the impact they've made on my life and wishing them much happiness as their sights refocus after so much time and energy so willingly given.

Look! Up in the sky!

I'm sure that you all know who Tom Hanks is.

In the event that you just took up residence on Planet Earth, Hanks is an Oscar winning actor who's collection of work is extensive, varied, and inspiring. His voice is one of the most recognizable in the 'Biz', instantly identifiable by young and old alike, whether it's the charming drawl of Forest Gump, the phrenetic gibber of Toy Story's Woody, of the resounding yawp for a shipwrecked comfort, Wilson. Hanks himself tells the story of sharing an elevator ride with a youngster and family, and when a parent's revelation that Woody (of Toy Story fame) stood across the elevator was met with extreme disbelief, the single line uttered, "Guys, we gotta get back to Andy's room!" prompted a wide-eyed, slack-jawed reaction incredulity as the youngster instantly connected the dots thanks to that iconic voice.

Hanks was the keynote address at Harvard's graduation 2023. Although a lengthy affair, the 'CLICK' will be well worth the minutes invested. 

One of many themes in a brilliant speech was the insistence the graduates embrace their super powered propensity for change, putting a thumbprint on the world, because "... there has never been a graduating class that has not faced the greatest challenges of all time. That come every spring, the maelstrom of history swirls so wildly that no matter the year or the era or the generation, there is always an atmospheric river of events that makes right now the hinge upon which our fate is turning." A challenge, if you will, to meet the impending times of conflict and strife with passion and commitment, a passing of the torch as it were. He succinctly summarizes his challenge, "We all have special powers and abilities far beyond the reach of other mortals. Some of us can repair a screen door with ease. Some of us can take care of a five-year-old kid and a toddler for 24 hours a day and never stop loving them. Some of us make sense of physics and economics and global policy. Some of us survive somehow on minimum earnings. Some of us graduate from colleges despite years of lockdowns and Zooms. Now these achievements are all stellar, even though yes, we are all but human. Still, we’d like to look up in the sky and see not a bird, not a plane, but well, someone who is young and strong and super who will fight the never ending battle for truth, for justice and for the American way."

Hanks warns the graduates that the task of his challenge will not go smoothly, "The work is the keeping of the promises of our promised land, the practice of decency, the protection of freedom and the promotion of liberty for all with no exceptions. And man, that takes on a lot of work." Using infallible logic, he pokes the ogre of indifference, his appointed threat to the American way, squarely in its chest, "The American way could be exampled, would you respect the law and the rights of all? Because if you don’t, who will? When your food is brought to you, will you thank the server? Because if you don’t, who will? Would you pick up the litter that has missed the recycling bin? Because if you don’t, who will? When you vote your conscience and make sure your neighbour has the opportunity to do the same with theirs, because if you don’t, who will?"

It is the summation of his address that left me pondering his argument, so much so that I re-watched to ensure I understood his message. In an act of profound bluntness, Hanks identifies the 'elephant in the room', lest there be those listening that miss the point. "Truth has synonyms such as honesty, honour, transparency. And yet, the common practice of so many is to play fast and loose with those very words, to create enemies, to claim victimhood, to raise the mediocre into merit and to make cloudy a vista that is actually crystal clear." In its essence, he is calling out those who would use fake news as a means to an end.

The battle for truth is the work he referred to earlier, amidst the daily insurgence of half-truths and fake news, to employ resistance to sit idly by, to spectate from the sidelines, to be lured to the 'Dark Side' that is indifference. "Ignorance and intolerance can be replaced by experience in the wink of an eye, but indifference will narrow the vision of America’s people and make dim the light of Lady Liberty’s symbolic torch." Hanks simplifies his point, that all in attendance will understand his urgency, "Every day, every year, and for every graduating class, there is a choice to be made. It’s the same option for all grownups who have to decide to be one of three types of Americans, those who embrace liberty and freedom for all, those who won’t, or those who are indifferent."

His challenge is simplistic in it's essence. Now that you've graduated into the fray of adulthood, you're tasked with making a choice to either fight for Truth, Justice, and the American way, thumb your nose at those time-tested values, or shrug shoulders in an act of indifference ... but choose you must. "The never ending battle you have all officially joined as of today, the difference is in how truly you believe and in how vociferously you promote, and how tightly you hold to the truth that is self-evident, that of course we are all created equally yet differently." Those last few words are the paradox that begs solving. Can we embrace being created equal while at the same time be cognizant and tolerant of differences?

I strongly doubt that Hanks himself penned this diatribe in a solo effort, yet should I be wrong, good on him! After spending a winter in the USA, listening to the opinions, the polarized news casts, and poolside chats, I'm a fan of his message, regardless of its origin. And it's not just the Americans! The Earth as a whole could use some super-powered help right now. 

I'll state it in different words ... it's NOT offensive to be different, but being different doesn't diminish one's inherent value.

To the thousands of grads this spring, which of the three options will you choose?

More importantly, which of the three will we as a society choose?

Heavy stuff!

I wish I had met him!

Our daughter Maddison fell hard for the son of Oshawa high school sweethearts who recently reacquainted themselves with their O'Neill CVI graduating class of 1980. Life proceeded as it almost always does, leading to beachside nuptials joining Chris Cove's family with ours. The courtship and subsequent wedding weekend allowed Joyce and I the opportunity to create a new friendship, a chance crossing of our Life's paths.

Tony and Cheryl Cove, as previously stated, were O'Neill high sweethearts, and judging by the quality of human they both are, it's highly probable that their cadre of friends was expansive and varied. Cheryl recently shared a Blog ... y'all know I'm a sucker for great writing ... penned by a OCVI friend, Lynn Martin, that embraced the memory of a fellow classmate who passed from a courageous battle with cancer. 

Meet Peter Bacon.

Reading the piece, I became both dour and enlightened at the same time as the image of a truly amazing individual slowly materialized, the focus sharpening to 4K quality with a simple YouTube video. What sticks with me is the brutal honesty of the horrible damage cancer and its treatment have on the inflicted, but despite that, the incandescent glow of Peter's smile combined with his obvious passion for music is heartwarming and delightful. 

Below are Lynn's own words ... She's obviously a gifted writer, compassionate, and empathetic. After reading her piece, I was immediately saddened that he passed and that I never had the privilege. 

Thanks to Lynn!

And thanks Tony and Cheryl for gifting your son to our world. 

We are DEF pleased that our paths crossed!

When Paths Cross
Have you ever given thought to the number of people we cross paths with in our lifetime and the impact they may have in doing so? Some we may only meet for a brief moment in time, some ebb and flow in and out of our life over the years, some are a constant for the duration of our time here on earth. It is in the crossing of paths we feel the impact of that person touching our life, for however long that may be.

I was recently reminded of this kind of impact through a long-lost fellow classmate, someone I had not seen in 40+ years. Allow me explain. 

In May 2020, my graduating year from high school was planning a 40th reunion. Unfortunately, Covid put an abrupt halt to those plans, but after 2 1/2 years of rescheduling numerous times, in October 2022, we finally managed to get a date on the calendar.

Thus our 40+2 reunion happened.

I feel so fortunate to have had a very positive experience in high school. I had a wonderful group of friends and a solid place to fall while navigating my teen years. I recognize this is not the case for everyone. What I find most interesting in having the opportunity to reunite as adults, thus crossing paths once again, is to listen to everyone’s stories and experiences, how they perceived life in those formative teen years and of course, where life has taken them.

As adults, the differences &/or misconceptions we may or may not have felt as teenagers, all but fade away as we share laughter and stories of our memories and experiences of those days we spent together oh so long ago. While in the midst of planning our reunion, one of our committee members shared with us that sadly, one of our former high school classmates had just been diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer.
His journey & his openness to share his experience, is largely what prompted this post.

Peter Bacon was a talented musician, remembered by anyone who attended our high school in that era. To be honest, I didn’t know Pete all that well in those days, our paths didn’t cross a whole lot in our social circles, but I certainly knew who he was. He was that cool guy, much too cool for the likes of me, who blew us away with his talent, as he cranked out tunes on the piano during our Folk Club concerts.
Until recently, I knew even less of what Pete’s life had become beyond that era. But it seems our paths were destined to cross once more, through his candid and open attitude in sharing his challenging journey.
What struck me most in every message he shared, in spite of the diagnosis he was facing, was his positive attitude, his never-ending sense of optimism, his immense gratitude for each and every day he was gifted, and for all of the love bestowed upon him.

Sadly Peter lost his fight with his cancer on May 10, 2023. A few weeks after his death, Peter’s family extended an open invitation to share in his Celebration of Life, live-streamed from Cabos, Mexico, where Pete resided and performed for the past number of years. I found myself opening my computer and listening to his family and friends honouring his life, learning so much about the classmate I once knew briefly, so many years ago. I learned of a man who lived his life doing what he loved most, entertaining & touching the lives of people who had the opportunity to hear his music. His smile, his goofy faces, his love for music and his positive energy shone through in every picture, every video and every person that spoke about him.

As his Celebration of Life drew to a close, I closed my computer and found myself uttering, “WOW”, out loud. Although Pete’s life was taken much too soon, I couldn’t help but think what a full & glorious life he lived.

Peter, thank you for inadvertently and perhaps even unknowingly, meandering back across my path. Thank you for reminding me how very precious life is and that regardless of the challenges we are facing, there is joy to be found in each and every moment we are gifted. I wish your family and those closest to you, lighter hearts in the days ahead, as they move forward without your physical presence. May they find peace in knowing you were surrounded in love, and clearly left an impact on each and every life you touched. I hope wherever you are, you are have found yourself a piano, once again basking in the sharing of your joyous gift of both music and love.

We can never know the impact we may make in crossing paths with people as we make our way through life. I encourage you to carefully & lovingly leave your footprint in the most positive way possible.
I leave you with one of Pete’s inspiring videos he shared, post brain surgery & in the midst of treatment. His attitude inspires me and I have no doubt he will forever be held in the hearts of all who loved him. Play on my friend! 

I am ever so grateful our paths crossed.

Hugs,

Lynn Martin

Remembering

Father's Day 2023 has come and passed, leaving thousands of photos and sentiments as the evidence of a busy day expressing gratitude and love to those that sired us. Some were present to receive the hugs, gifts, and treats; some fondly remembered for all they did while living their lives amongst us. Granted, there will be children that see the day filled sadness or sorrow, prompted by regrets spurned from their continuing grief, dealing with their loss in a personal way and timeline. 

It's an odd holiday, if I'm honest.

When ranked by popular opinion, the overwhelming favourite is logically different dependent on the region the survey is given. Give it in North America, the number one holiday is Christmas with its gatherings, feasts, libations, and gifts, surprisingly popular in a wide variety of regions in the world, even those dominated by non-christian faiths. Give it in other parts, you'll find New Years topping the list ... maybe two billion Chinese can't be that far wrong!

A quick Internet search reveals a plethora of sites with lists with one source (CLICK) that offers a chart that includes percentages of respondents, and as one scans down it you pass Christmas, Canada Day, Hallowe'en, Thanksgiving, and Victoria Day on your way to Father's day, ranking a curious #19 at 0.4%, barely outpacing St George's day, Discovery Day, and Islander Day. 

Be that as it may, it's still filled to the brim with heartfelt well wishes offered in appreciation and recognition of the sacrifices and guidance of a long-passed youth. 

You never know how much time you get with your loved ones, but the harsh reality is exactly as the saying goes, "Nobody gets out alive!" so it's forgivable to take parental love and generosity for granted until it's too late. Like so many, I'm reminded of my father each and every time I look in the mirror, his hooked nose, lantern jaw, dimpled cheeks and twinkling eyes staring back at me. Yes, there's portions of my mother too, but truth be told, it's readily evident which DNA expressed their dominance. 

My own father passed frustratingly young, succumbing to a cancer of unknown origins, even after a post-mortem. Known simply as 'Doc' to the hundreds of thousands in the greater Barrie area, a moniker that reflected being the solo orthopedic surgeon at RVH for years, he emulated the man that I wished to become. When I reminisce about childhood events, the point where additional orthopods came to town is marked by his more regular presence in our family happenings. What many don't know about growing up in a doctor's family is the willing sacrifice of his family for yours as he lived up to his Hippocratic oath, resulting in being regularly absent or arriving late for events of significance. As the time passed, bringing with it an enhanced maturity, it gifted me the ability to understand his sacrifices and grew my gratitude that he was able to balance it all. 

We all have regrets. 

For me, it was not doing as thorough a job of showing him that I understood why things happened that way they did, and visibly thanking him for doing it. Yes, I feel that I expressed my appreciation for all those moments that were jointly just ours, and as I grew emotionally, I was able to openly show him my love, but I look back now, almost 17 years since he passed, and I feel strongly that I could have done a little bit more. I regret that he was robbed of the opportunity to experience his family in it's full glory, his four boys growing their own versions following the recipe so willingly shared by he and my mom. I regret that he was robbed of seeing my own children as they transitioned through adolescence, the character-building teen years, discovering adulthood's gifts by finding a partner to walk Life's paths with ... he'd have loved Maddi's Boo Chris and KP's Jess.

I love you dad, and I thank you for the million examples of generosity and love you showed me.

I'm proud to be your son.

I hope that you got to enjoy a happy Father's Day, whatever it looks like up there.

My kingdom for a butter tart!

"A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse!" uttered Richard III in Shakespeare's iconic drama about the fall of Britain's crown at the Battle of Bosworth Field, fighting to his death on foot after losing his horse in battle. In that moment, the Wars of the Roses nearing its end, his death is a turning point in British history with the victorious Henry Tudor becoming Henry VII, the first of the Tudor monarchs and the founder of their dynasty.

William Shakespeare rose to professional success under Elizabeth I, the final Tudor ruler, penning his drama about the historical king while taking a wide poetic licence with character development. On a related fun factoid, the hastily constructed grave of the monarch was confirmed when it was discovered in 2012 under a Leicester parking lot, DNA of the contents confirming its occupant's identity.

Why tell you all of this?

"A butter tart, a butter tart, my kingdom for a butter tart!" 

I completely empathize with Richard's besieged proclamation, except in my case it's a plea for a most delicious treat, my true Kryptonite if I'm honest. It doesn't quite roll off the lips as poetically as the original, but I do like the sound of it.

In case you were unaware, the local city of Midland, ON, annually hosts a passionate celebration of all things butter tart, and in 2023, it fell on June 10th. A scant 12 hours prior to the day's sunrise, the forecast was for a glorious day, and my good friend Doug Woods (ex BCC & BNC VP, fellow cyclist, and all around great guy) reached out with an invitation to join him in a tour of western Simcoe combined with a visit that would featured my personal ambrosia. 

"Of course I'm in, Woodsy!

The route he configured to arrive at said celebration featured a small tour of Wasaga Beach, a sashay through beaches A through W (Allendwood - Wahnekewaning) to the 13th line of Tiny, and a dash around Midland Point before the area's cycling trails emptied out onto the Midland Harbour, the start of the craziness that consumed the main drag King Street with it's dozens of vendor's tents and long line ups. A quick stop at Grounded Cafe for some java enjoyed, we scanned the available wares, honed in on the chosen prey, and BAZINGA, secured an example of pure ecstasy bundled up in a cup of mouth-watering pastry. 

The poor thing never stood a chance!

As luck would have it, who should appear at the end of the line up for the very same delicacy, but my cousin Bryan Dean and his two treat-seeking friends. Bryan's mom Merle and my mom Andrea were sisters, meaning the four Porter warts spent the bulk of our adolescence getting up to no good with the 3 Dean offspring. Readers of this Blog may recall the post about my Aunt's passing a couple of years back, a tough time for the entire family made worse by our guilt for allowing life to get in the way of continued connections. Despite the regular dose of Social Media's photos, the 7 of us had allowed the responsibilities of raising families, the demands of employment, and the craziness of a pandemic to become obstacles that prevented our long-overdue reacquaintance. 

Bryan and I shared our pertinent family news, made our inquiries about life ups and downs, then bid our goodbyes but not before making a solemn promise to work toward an open invitation to the extended family for a summer reunion. We agreed that we need to set the date and allow all those that can and will to share a meal, a beverage, and warm embrace while we rekindle those childhood "fires". 

With our pancreases in full spasm, Woodsy and I made our way back along the side roads of Tiny, bid our farewells, shared our gratitude for an astounding morning, and went our separate ways, he to his car parked in Elmvale, me to the Beach. While the winds off Georgian Bay howled out of the west making the route home a teeth-gritting affair, there was little decline in my mood, and pulling into the parking lot signalled the sweet conclusion of another amazing cycling experience.

The HUGE smile when I presented Joyce with her own little gem of Canadian deliciousness was just icing on the cake.

#lifeisgood 

#buttertarts 

#getinmybelly

Remembering OFSAA 2019

It's the morning of the opening kick-off for the 2023 OFSAA 'AAA' Boys' Rugby championships being held in Arva, ON, and with Barrie North's Sr side qualifying the other day by besting Collingwood in the GBSSA finals, I'm reminded of my final season coaching high school rugby, back in 2019. 

Wait, you say, Arva? I've lived in Ontario my whole life, but where in the world is that?

Arva, ON, is the home of Medway HS, a long-time key player in the high school rugby scene, and the host of the 2023 OFSAA championship. It is a quiet hamlet a few minutes north of London, ON, up highway #4 and is hosting the rugby championships again after a successful go around in 2022. 

Long time friends will recall that when Barrie Central was officially closed in June of 2016, I took my coaching show on the road to Barrie North, and together with my great friend and co-coach Ron Andrews, took over the Sr Boys' rugby program for the last few years of our career prior to retirement. It wasn't like we were starting all over again since the program had been skillfully steered by it's present head coach, Mike Alcombrack, who graciously handed over the reins, but we felt compelled to put our 'Central-style' thumbprint on it. With our retirement looming, we both knew that time was short to install the necessary skills and understanding to have our new charges perform at a level where we could anticipate a return to the OFSAA stage. 

Like the quote from Coach Hotz, it's all about how you react.

The lad's eyebrows were collectively raised when we implemented the mandatory winter training sessions, focusing on skills that were only marginally accepted as important, having never spent so much time on them in their past. Not the least of those were their ball in hand + pass-catch skills, something we had long cherished as vital to success, even adopting the adage '"if you can't pass, you perish", so the grumbling came fast and furious as we focused on the minutia of effective technique. Another was the thrilling world of footwork and its impact on evasion skills, the end goal to avoid contact situations and their potential for loss of possession. Drill after drill, we harped on their execution, much to their displeasure. 

In the end, their skills and understanding lagged behind their passion for 'dubs', culminating in a playoff loss to a talented Nantyr Shores team in the 2017 GBSSA finals.

Fast forward to the 2018 rugby season, and the return of a sizeable portion of the team that had transitioned into Gr 12, the resistance to our 'Central' way was noticeably lower, and we took the next steps by ramping up the drill's intensity to replicate game-like conditions. Integral to this was the implementation of lunch-time touch and its recreation of game time conditions, but the numbers were lacking, foreshadowing what was to come. Just like we experienced in our previous coaching lives, the 2018 version embraced most of the changes, the 'rugby IQ' growing weekly, resulting in a return to the GBSSA championship, this time facing Banting. 

Despite the significant improvements in skills and knowledge, the lad's lack of commitment to the physical side of training came back to haunt them as a significantly stronger Banting team used their physicality to best us. 

Bride's maids again.

With the sting of two unsuccessful bids for the OFSAA experience fresh in their minds, the fall of the 2018-2019 school year was punctuated by the grunts and clangs of the lad's weight room antics, notably led by the sizeable number who had chosen to return for a 'victory lap' in quest of their first collective OFSAA trip. Gone were the moans and groans of "we've never done that before" as the lunch touch sessions and night practices showcased their growing skills, recognition, and enhanced physical abilities. 

The only thing missing was a tour!

As Ron and I had experienced many times in our past, nothing unites a side like a rugby tour, and with so many incredible experiences to choose from, we queried the lads on how many would be willing to put in the necessary work to raise enough funds to make it happen. With a resounding affirmation, the only thing left was to plan. At the top of the wish list was a return to Florida's Disney World, a two-time Central touring escapade that were both classified as amazing successes. Unfortunately, things had changed significantly in the SCDSB, and with permission denied, we scrambled to find something that Sr admin would say yes to. 

If you can't be allowed to take a group of teenagers to arguably the safest place on the planet, taking them to the modern version of Soddam & Gomorrah was the logical choice, yes? Armed with the knowledge that the 7-a-side World Rugby's only North American stop was in Las Vegas, and the rugby crazies in that part of the world ran an invitational tournament that had a high school 15-a-side version, we rolled the dice and resubmitted our application bound for the USA's 'Sin City'.

Of course we were granted permission. What could go wrong in Vegas baby!

The buzz of excitement was palpable as the best kept secret that we would be touring Vegas was finally revealed to players and parents alike. We had a tried and true fundraising vehicle that would assist with the dreaded chase for the necessary cash to make the experience a reality, and following that first tour meeting, the lads were rabid about the possibility. That infusion of energy provided the push to achieve near 100% buy-in from the team and attendance at training and fitness was at an all time high. 

I could write a 7-page post about that tour, but that's not the focus of this particular post, so I'll just leave it at IT WAS AS BRILLIANT AS IT WAS MEMORABLE, and was just what the doctor ordered for unifying the lads. I'll write a follow up post to this one with a better synopsis of the tour.

Armed with enhanced skills, understanding, fitness, and game experience, the lads took to the 2019 GBSSA season like bees to honey, steamrolling their way to a 3rd straight trip to the championship game, this time facing Banting for the rematch. Ron and I both knew that something special was brewing as the lads dominated in all aspects of the game, winning that elusive GBSSA crown in convincing fashion, erasing the disappointment of the previous few seasons.

Here we come OFSAA!

Being a relative unknown at the provincial level, we were seeded in a challenging slot, meaning that our first hurdle was to go through host side Brooklyn SS in the opening round. Despite all of the hours invested in preparing for this moment, the jitters got the best of the lads, and a late game surge aside, we bowed to Brooklyn. It would have been easy for them to hang their heads, feel sorry for themselves, and shrug the remainder of the tournament away, but kudos to them for steeling their resolve by setting their sights on the Consolation Championship. 

If you're familiar with rugby and the OFSAA championship, you'll already be aware of how tremendously difficult the tournament is both mentally and physically, but in case you're reading this and know nothing about it, it would be good for you to understand that the kids who play in a championship game (Gold medal or Consolation) will have played 4 games in total over 3 days ... 1 the opening day, 2 on the middle day, and 1 on the day of the final. These games are 40 min in total because the Law Book for rugby limits the number of minutes that a player can potentially participate in for a 24 hour period. Since it is the provincial championship, the games are intense, physical, and most likely hot since it's annually played in the first week of June. With an opening round loss, North survived 'Hell Day' with wins over first a gritty, athletic John F Ross (Guelph) team, then a tightly contested affair over Sacred Heart (Ottawa) that wasn't decided until the overtime period that came down to penalty kicks when Gr 11 center Wyatt Pilz slotted a toe-punch from the extreme right from over 30m away. 

The berth earned in to the Consolation Final meant revisiting an old rival for Ron and I. Over the many years at Central, we faced perennial powerhouse Brantford Collegiate in a number of medal games, winning our fair share, but they were always tightly contested and extremely physical. The 2019 version proved to be no less epic as both teams played their hearts out despite their exhausted, incredibly sore bodies, willing themselves to give every last drop of energy in the cause. As the final whistle sounded, the scoreboard in favour of the 'Good Guys', our boys let out a collective sigh of relief, embraced each other, and celebrated North's first OFSAA championship banner, albeit as "the best of the rest". Those on their victory lap in particular grinned ear to ear with their sense of accomplishment, content that they had secured their legacy in the history of their beloved school. 

Ron and I shared a number of emotional moments with the boys and the parents that had travelled to support the effort, but the warmest, most genuine of the day's embraces were the ones we shared as we basked in the glory of what we had accomplished together, our coaching partnership reaching its inevitable conclusion. Very few other teachers can lay claim to a legacy like ours, decades in the making, a lineage stacked with OFSAA medals of all denominations, and the sheer elation of capping off those careers with one last OFSAA victory filled us with both elation and sadness, in equal amounts. With Ron retiring that June, and me following in the following January, our time at the helm of the good ship rugby had reached its conclusion.

Ron's become one of my dearest friends over the years. As he eloquently pointed out one day, we worked side by side in the pressure cooker of high school athletics, share an exorbitant amount of success, and can freely admit that we had nary a disagreement over that 24 or so years. Not too many duos can profess that accomplishment.

These days, all that remain are the dusty memories of those years, and while the gold-silver-bronze medals are trophies worthy of proud grins, I'll unequivocally state that were pretty gosh darned proud of what we accomplished at Barrie North in a very short amount of time.

Cue the slow walk into the sunset ... Annnnd CUT!